When life slips you a Jeffrey, stroke the furry walls

Tube Gate

With the flimsy, rubbery, soft plastic lid of my feeding tube one hard snap away from breaking off irreparably, a temporary solution of sorts was needed sooner rather than later. Nobody wanted to deal with the inevitable bile-storm that would likely ooze up out the tube if we didn’t get this thing capped off.

My caregiver Lhito found a miniature drumstick, cut it in half, and placed it perfectly in the tube like a cork inside a bottle of wine. Truth be told, it worked better than the original one ever did.

Knowing full well that this was a quick fix, we made an appointment with the folks down at interventional radiology to get the real deal put in. We were told over the phone that they would be replacing the entire apparatus and not just the damaged cap.

Once we arrived on-site, the surgical team reevaluated the situation and determined an alternative course of action. They dug around some supply closet, unearthed this clear plastic spigot of sorts, and inserted it into my feeding tube. Then the nurse showed us how to turn the handle a quarter turn to the right when administering a feeding and how to twist it another ninety degrees in either direction to switch it off.

We smiled and thanked them for their time and efforts.

Once we got home, we removed the over-complicated spigot system and replaced it with the tried-and-true miniature drumstick.